


Consequence of Choice

by msraven



Series: Trope Bingo Round 3 Blackout [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Bonding, Getting Together, Imprinting, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Vampire!Phil, Werewolf!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>How do you explain to a group of centuries-old vampires that Phil had looked down at Clint's beautiful eyes – eyes filled with life and light despite the dire situation – and couldn't make himself condemn the man to an eternity of sadness and loss? That Phil refused to be the cause for Clint to lose his humanity?</i>
</p><p>A fill for my AU: Supernatural square for trope_bingo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consequence of Choice

**Author's Note:**

> My trope_bingo card has taken over my brain... *g*
> 
> Thank you, as always, to kultiras for the extra set of eyes and all the support.

"Out of the way! We need all the O-neg you can find!"

Phil follows behind the doctors and nurses as they rush Clint through the Med bay. Dr. Sanchez is kneeling on the gurney itself, frantically performing CPR even as she shouts orders to the rest of her staff. They roll Clint into a treatment room and a stern look from one of the many nurses keeps Phil on the outside of the doors. Another nurse gives him an assessing look as she passes, but doesn't approach him, despite his appearance. Phil is covered in blood. Some of it is from the quickly healing gash on his arm, but most of it belongs to Clint. 

"Coulson!" Fury calls out as he strides toward Phil, followed closely by Hill and Romanov. "What the hell happened out there?"

"They had silver bullets and explosives," Phil responds, unable to keep the slight tremor out of his voice. "Clint... he... he stepped in front of a bullet meant for me."

"I'm going to stake whoever fucked up that intel," Hill swears. 

"How bad is it?" Natasha asks. 

"Bad. I couldn't get the bleeding stopped before we were extracted."

"Why didn't you turn him?" 

Natasha's question isn't meant as an accusation, but guilt still floods over Phil. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. How do you explain to a group of centuries-old vampires that Phil had looked down at Clint's beautiful eyes – eyes filled with life and light despite the dire situation – and couldn't make himself condemn the man to an eternity of sadness and loss? That Phil refused to be the cause for Clint to lose his humanity? He thinks Natasha sees his answer anyway, her eyes turning away quickly, but not before Phil sees the disappointment in them. 

The doors to Clint's room fly open as Dr. Sanchez steps outside to brief them. The amount of additional blood on her scrubs is an alarming sight and Phil's stomach roils in fear. 

"How is he?" Fury demands. 

"Not good. There's too much damage and he's lost a lot of blood."

"Then I'll turn him," Natasha volunteers, but Sanchez gives a decisive shake of her head. 

"It's too late for that. Barton won't survive your taking more blood and even if he did, he won't be able to drink from you to finish the turning."

Phil has to close his eyes against the overwhelming grief, stronger than he's felt through all his lifetimes, only to have them fly open in shock at Fury's next words. 

"The were serum, then."

"What? No!" Phil protests. "You can't."

"It's not just my call, Phil. You know that. No agent can be forced to perform a turning, that was your choice, but Barton signed the 361 - resuscitation at all costs."

"So you're going to make him a werewolf?"

"He understood that was one of the alternatives."

"It's possible he won't survive the transformation," Sanchez points out. 

"From what you've said, he's as good as dead anyway," Hill says and a heavy silence falls over the room.

"Do it," Fury orders. "I know Barton. He's always been stronger than we've given him credit for. He'll make it."

Dr.Sanchez nods, walking back through the doors to administer the serum. Several of the staff walk out a moment later, protocol dictating that only a minimal staff be present during a transformation. There is inherent danger with an emerging wolf that none of them take lightly. 

Tense minutes pass and then an agonized scream rends the air. Phil shudders in reaction to the sound, surprised when Natasha's hand slips into his own and grips tight. He's not sure who is providing comfort to whom as Clint's wails eventually subside into low howls before stopping altogether.

"You should get in there, Coulson," Fury prods. It's customary for an agent's handler to be present immediately after a transformation, allowing their scent to be imprinted into the new werewolf's subconscious as someone safe, someone to be trusted, someone to follow without question. 

"I can't." Phil pulls his hand out of Natasha's grip and takes several steps backwards. He has failed Clint in every way possible. Not only was Phil unable to save Clint from the pain of immortality, but his inaction has now imprisoned Clint into a lifetime of servitude. 

"I don't deserve him," Phil adds and walks away.

~^~

Considering the number of years that he has lived, the weeks that follow should feel like the blink of an eye to Phil. They don't. He feels every second, every hour, and every day of his self-enforced separation from Clint. Phil knows that it was Natasha who entered Clint's room the day he was transformed and resolves to be happy that Clint will have such a fierce protector. His resolution does little to stem his envy or relieve the ache that's settled in his heart.

Phil is trying – and mostly failing – to relax with a book one evening when there is a whine and a scratch at the door to his quarters. Curious, he stands and opens the door, surprised to find a wolf on the other side. The brief glance that Phil gets of the wolf's eyes makes it unquestionably Clint, and then the wolf pounces, paws landing on Phil's chest. The sudden impact makes him stagger back into his quarters, barely keeping upright, while Clint licks happily at his face. 

"No! Clint, stop. Down!" Phil scolds, laughing as he gently pushes the wolf away. 

Unconcerned, Clint drops back on all fours and begins nosing around the room. Phil glances out into the hallway before shutting the door when he sees no sign of Natasha. He turns around to find Clint trying to pull a piece of roast beef out of the sandwich Phil had left on the coffee table.

"Hey! That's mine," Phil protests, lifting the plate out of Clint's reach, but relents when the wolf looks up at him imploringly. "Fine, here. I guess I was done anyway."

Phil lifts the top slice of bread off the sandwich and places it back down on the table in front of Clint, who quickly snatches the remainder of the roast beef and gulps it down in one go. Snack gone, the wolf goes back to exploring the rest of his new surroundings. Phil sits back down on the couch and lets himself admire the beauty of Clint's wolf form. 

Clint is, for all intents and purposes, still a puppy. He's not much bigger than an average wolf at this stage – about the same size a human Clint would be if he walked around on his hands and feet – but powerfully built with solid, compact muscle. Over time, as Clint's body adjusts to the transformations, his wolf form will grow until the top of its head reaches as high as Phil's shoulder. Clint will also gain greater control of his transformations and wolf form, changing at will instead of with the waxing and waning of the moon. Clint's coat is the same blonde as his human hair, with eyes the same familiar kaleidoscope of colors and holding the same gleam of mischief the man often gets when pestering his fellow agents. 

After a quick circuit of the room, Clint jumps up on the couch next to Phil, circling once on the cushions before settling with his head on Phil's lap. Clint prods at Phil's hand with his nose and then huffs contentedly when Phil begins stroking his fingers through the wolf's fur. 

"You should go back to Natasha," Phil says without any real suggestion in his tone. 

The wolf sits up, tilting its head inquisitively, before dropping back down with another huff. Clint burrows closer, settling more firmly on Phil's lap, and closes his eyes. Phil doesn't have enough experience with newly turned weres to know whether Clint will remember this in the morning and he's feeling selfish enough after the last few weeks of heartache not to push the wolf away. Clint is a warm, comforting weight against him and Phil lets his breathing match the wolf's as they both slip into sleep.

~^~

Phil isn't surprised to wake up alone the next morning and spends the succeeding weeks continuing to avoid contact with Clint. He tells himself that he's trying not to interfere with Clint and Natasha's need to bond, but Phil knows that he's just being a coward. Facing the wolf pup is very different than facing the man he failed so spectacularly.

When the same set of events occur during the next full moon, Phil decides it's time to stop hiding. He starts by seeking out Natasha.

"Clint came to see me again last night." 

Natasha says nothing and looks steadily back at Phil.

"You don't seem concerned," Phil says when the other agent remains silent.

"Should I be?"

"I don't want to interfere with his connection to you as his master."

"Ah…" Natasha smiles. "You don't know. The imprinting didn't take."

"What? How's that possible?" Phil has never heard of a newly transformed were not taking to an imprint. 

"When have we ever known Clint to do something just because it's normal?"

Phil has to concede her point. From his upbringing in the circus to his insistence on using a bow and arrows, Clint seems to have been born to defy conventions.

"So he's lone?" Phil asks, concerned. The need for imprinting was a hard lesson learned over the years, coming at the cost of many lives. Wolves that don't imprint are prone to devolve deeper into their more primal nature, often becoming uncontrollable to the point of needing to be put down.

"Not from what you've just told me."

"It's not the same thing."

"No? I would think that a chosen master would forge as strong a, if not stronger, bond than an enforced one."

Phil sits heavily in the chair across from Natasha. "How can he forgive me so easily?"

"You assume he believes there is anything for him to forgive."

"Then why hasn't he…"

"Come to see you?" Natasha finishes. "This _is_ Clint we're speaking of."

Phil stops to think of how everything must look to Clint. Phil hasn't taken on any human assets in decades, not until Fury asked him to take Clint – something the archer is well aware of. When the time came for Clint to be turned, Phil refused, and then walked away from imprinting with the werewolf he'd become. With Clint's history, it's easy to see how the archer would see Phil's avoidance.

"He thinks I don't want him."

Natasha's smile is filled with infinite patience and Phil wants to groan at his own short-sightedness.

"I never meant…" Phil sighs. "If anything, I want him too much."

"Which solves nothing, if you speak of it only to me."

Phil knows a dismissal when he hears one and stands, giving Natasha a nod in thanks before making his way down to the range. Clint has his back turned to the door, but he lowers his bow, shoulders drooping in defeat, when Phil enters.

"I can have Natasha lock me up next time. So I don't disturb you."

"That's not what I want, Clint."

Clint looks over his shoulder at Phil. "It's not?"

"No. We… it's time we talk, but not here." The range feels too open and exposed to be having such a private conversation.

"Your quarters?" Clint requests, turning fully to face Phil. "I, uh, feel safe there."

Phil smiles and nods, Clint's admission sending a flood of warmth through him. He waits for Clint to put away his bow and quiver before they leave the range and walk, side-by-side, towards his quarters. They sit together on the couch and Phil resists the urge to wrap his arm around Clint, like he would the wolf. 

"I should probably explain why I chose not to turn you," Phil says and continues quickly before he can hesitate. "You know that I've been alive for nearly two centuries now. In that time, I've seen a lot of atrocities and lost a lot of good friends. I had been determined not to get close to any more humans. It was easy to do until Fury brought you into SHIELD."

"I was different?"

"Very," Phil smiles. "Despite your troubled past, I have never met anyone so full of life and made _me_ experience things differently because of it. When you were bleeding out in my arms, I realized that I never wanted to let you go."

"I don't understand. Why did that keep you from turning me?"

"Because I've never wanted something so badly as I did in that moment. I couldn't be sure if I was turning you to save you or to fulfill my own selfish desires. The last thing I wanted was to watch you lose your love for life, your humanity, because I couldn't bare to lose you. I didn't want you to suffer like I have through the years."

"Oh. Well… I've never been worried about that," Clint says confidently and then smiles at Phil's disbelieving expression. "I know you've been through a lot, that you've been lonely. I've never had to worry about that because I knew I'd always have Natasha and Fury and you. I mean, I know there are no guarantees – vampires are immortal, not indestructible – and it will still be difficult to lose friends who choose to stay human, but I can't imagine being unhappy as long as I have you."

"Then I'm sorry."

"For what?" Clint asks, tilting his head inquisitively in a gesture common to man and wolf. 

"For not trusting you to know your own mind. For not talking about this before it became too late. For not turning you."

"I'm not – sorry you didn't turn me, I mean. Nothing against you or Nat or anything, but I think I'm much more cut out to be a wolf than a vampire. I hadn't really been looking forward to the whole drinking blood to survive thing."

"Vampires do need to eat other food."

"Yeah, but you don't crave it like you do blood." Clint shrugs. "This way, I get to stay with you without having to give up my overdone steaks you're always ribbing me about."

Phil's brow furrows in thought. "Do you know why the imprinting with Natasha didn't take?"

"Uh… yeah." Clint bites his lip and ducks his head, looking up at Phil a little shyly. "She wasn't you."

Phil blinks in surprise. "You resisted it?"

"I don't actually remember a whole lot between our getting extracted and then waking up a few days later. It's all really fuzzy in my head, but I remember that Nat smelled familiar and safe, but it wasn't _right._ We didn't realize anything was wrong until we tried to train together."

"And when you were a wolf?"

"Ran purely on instinct. I knew there was somewhere else I needed to be, someone I needed to find, and I just followed my nose."

"You realize that our… connection as master and wolf may not be as strong because I wasn't there just after you were transformed?"

Clint throws his head back and laughs, leaving Phil to look at him bemusedly until he stops. "You're kidding right? I didn't need to become a wolf for that connection to be there. From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one I could trust and the one I would protect at all cost. Fury may have been the one who did the asking, but I _chose_ you from the beginning."

"I was afraid I'd lost your trust when I didn't turn you."

"Never," Clint says with shake of his head. "I know I was a total shit when I first joined SHIELD – just because I knew I could trust you didn't mean I knew how. You still earned my trust, even though you'd had it from the beginning. You've always been more patient and cared more about me than I deserved."

"That's where you're wrong. You deserved it all. You are the most exquisite person I have ever known, human or otherwise, and I'm sorry if I ever made you think that you weren't wanted."

"Do you?" Clint asks, eyes darkening as they drop down to Phil's lips. "Want me?"

Every inch of Phil's body comes to attention and, in all his years as a man and then a vampire, he doesn't remember having so little control of his reactions. It's a difficult struggle not to pull Clint immediately into his arms as the were begins to edge closer to Phil on the couch. There is one more thing Phil needs to say and he places a hand on the center of Clint's chest to stop his progress.

"I do want you. Desperately," Phil answers honestly and smiles when Clint's eyes widen in surprise at the admission. "But I need you to know that my being your master doesn't mean that anything is required of you. You are not a mindless slave. Your desires matter as much as mine."

Clint shakes his head fondly and places a hand over Phil's on his chest. "I thought living through all those centuries made vampires smarter." He lifts Phil's hand, intertwining their fingers and taking a long sniff at the sensitive skin of his wrist, before meeting Phil's eyes again. "What part about your being my choice to you not understand?"

Phil has no more defenses after that and he surges against Clint to capture his lips in a fierce kiss. Clint meets him head on, opening himself up to Phil's kiss and returning it with equal abandon. Then Clint growls low in his throat, using his newly acquired strength and speed to carry Phil across the room and onto the bed. It's been over a century since Phil has been manhandled so easily and he grins, letting his fangs show, as Clint stalks across the bed toward him.

Having a werewolf – having _Clint_ – in his life and in his bed is going to make eternity very interesting.

~^~

"Hold it," Phil orders sternly, watching the full moon rise behind Clint's shoulder.

Clint whimpers and trembles, but holds his human form. This is a necessary part to Clint's training, despite the difficulty, and Phil keeps his eyes on Clint's, trying to provide what support he can. Clint's shoulders straighten and Phil smiles with pride as the trembling stops. Phil waits another five minutes before finally nodding.

"Great job, Clint. You can let go now."

Clint immediately drops into a crouch and then to his hands, his back arching as his body begins to grow into its wolf form. Phil watches intently, making sure that the uniform R&D designed falls away as expected. He takes note that Clint's arm brace tightens too much before detaching and blames the distraction on why he doesn't see the wolf pounce in time. 

Phil lands on his back with a grunt, bringing his hands up in a vain attempt to keep the wolf from licking at his face. "Yuck. Clint! Stop. I know you know what you're doing."

Clint relents and sits up, but remains on top of Phil with his paws on the vampire's chest. Phil shakes his head and scowls up at the wolf. Clint woofs down at him in response, with an expression that Phil assumes is the wolf version of a smirk.

"Get off me, you mutt. You're heavy," Phil complains, shoving against Clint's solid bulk.

Phil doesn't use anywhere near the level of strength he's capable of, but the wolf scrambles off him, making it clear that Clint has more control than he claims. He waits patiently as Phil stands and then woofs again, turning his head to look at where the other SHIELD weres and their masters are already running through the training grounds.

"I should make you sit here and just watch the rest of the night," Phil grouses as he brushes dirt off his suit. This is their first night on the training grounds and Phil knows that Clint is eager to play with others of his kind.

Clint whines and walks closer, nudging at Phil's hand gently with his nose in apology. Phil looks down at him and absolutely refuses to be done in by a pair of puppy-dog eyes, but he knows when he's beat. 

"No more pouncing," Phil reiterates, forcing his face into a stern expression that he knows Clint sees right through.

The wolf nods its head and woofs in agreement, bounding off in the direction of the training grounds before stopping a few yards away and turning back to Phil.

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

They take off running, Phil easily keeping pace with the wolf's powerful strides. The air whips across Phil's face as they run while Clint's bulk remains a comforting warmth by his side. He is filled with a nearly overwhelming sense of rightness and Phil grins as they burst onto the training grounds. He's never felt more alive.

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
